


convalescence

by lafgl



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Anyways, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Mentions of Sex, don't lie to yourselves they were totally fucking before 4x11 u.u, help i am in a dumpster, mentions of torture, samaritan aftermath, shaw is skeptical but not fragile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 02:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7022374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafgl/pseuds/lafgl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>3 moments in Shaw and Root's relationship after Samaritan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	convalescence

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for this show, boy do I hope I do these badass ladies justice. Enjoy my take on what happens after Samaritan. After, please responsibly dispose of me in your nearest trash can because this ship has taken over my entire being. Seriously. I was writing a research paper and this story wouldn't LEAVE MY HEAD.

Her eyes open slowly. She's aware that she's on a cot. In.... she can't tell. Worried brown eyes stare aimlessly at the wall, the woman's head jerking as she hears her stirring.

"Sameen?"

A scratchy voice, "I... I don't und-" It's _her_ voice.

She cuts her off, "Don't." A pause. "I know you're probably really confused right now. You're safe. I don't know... what happened... or if you even remember anything but... You're _safe_ , Sameen."

"Root..." She says that name, the name that's brought her so much distress because she's not real. She's _never_ real.

She raises a hand to Shaw's cheek and caresses it gently, knowing full well that this might be the only chance she'll ever get to do so.

Internally, Shaw doesn't even mind. Her eyelids are heavy and her mind is working overtime trying to piece together what she knows. "You're not..."

Root shakes her head. "I'm real. It's me, Shaw."

"You can't be... You're never... They can keep trying..." She stumbles around half-formed ideas, still severely confused.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Sameen. Unless you want me to, that is."

That gets Shaw's attention. Not the usual scoff.

1\. The flirty banter -- internal eye roll.

2\. The flirty banter -- that's never there. Not like this at least. With them, it's more romantic. The constant pet names, sentimental gestures, cutesy remarks. They didn't know what Root and Shaw were into (and _thank_ _god_ ).

"You..." she tests, unsure if it's still all a simulation, like the god-knows-how-many other times.

"I don't know how to convince you," she laughs slightly, as much as she can in such a situation, "You'll just have to trust me on this one."

"I... I can't." This still doesn't feel right.

"I'll let you sleep, okay?" Her brows furrow and her voice is gentle, unlike anything she's heard from Root before. She gets up, and looks back at Shaw before reluctantly starting to leave the makeshift room, closed in by curtains.

"Wait." Shaw isn't sure what draws the words from her mouth, (the thought of being manipulated crosses her mind but is quickly tossed out) but Root turns back as if she was waiting for her to say that. (Was she?)

"Sameen, I can't say I know what you've been through," she sighs, "but I _know_ you don't trust me right now. You deserve some time alone."

She doesn't want to be alone.

" _Root_ ," she stresses, sitting up, "Let me talk to you."

Root makes her way back to Shaw's cot and pulls over a chair, "About?"

"Everything that happened."

"You want to do that?" The answer is, no, she really doesn't want to, but she knows she has to sometime, and, no time like the present.

"I'll give you the short version."

The short version consisted of: Torture. Emotional torture. Psychological torture. Whatever the fuck the simulations are (were?). Probably all 3.

Even if this is still a simulation, it feels good to talk about it.

"So you think..." Root trails off, and lets Shaw answer on her own time.

"I don't really know now. Some of me is saying this is real... I want it to be real, but nothing's been real for so long, and... I don't know what to do." Shaw leaves out what she actually ended up doing when it wasn't real. Maybe she'd tell her someday. (Someday tended to be their thing.)

Root's eyes dilate, and her eyebrows furrow gently. Shaw has always missed the little things. "Shaw..." She shakes her head slightly, "Get some rest."

* * *

 Shaw's not sure if it's hours, or days later when she finally comes to. Root isn't there. She yanks out the IV in her arm, and slowly rises to her feet. She manages to amass enough strength to make it across the room, supported by the wall at times, and pulls the curtains back to look around.

She's in the subway. Looking around, it's changed. The first thing that goes through her mind is, what if Samaritan finally broke her? But, why would they keep putting her through the simulations if they had enough to find her friends?

She pushes everything else out of her mind and focuses on her surroundings. There are more computers. The subway car has the most. Lots of boxes. Most addressed to a Harold something-or-other, no doubt many of his countless aliases. Some addressed to names she doesn't recognize, which she can only assume are Root's aliases, and by proxy, The Machine.

Shaw keeps her barefoot steps as silent as she can, padding across the cold floor to a place she doesn't recognize, and peers in, clutching the corner of the wall.

Root's there, laying on a bed, legs crossed daintily, reading a book. "Hey, Sweetie," she smiles, pushing up her glasses by the bridge, "Didn't think you'd be up so soon."

"How long _has_ it been exactly?" Shaw leans against the wall in the entrance.

"3 days. John didn't think you'd be up for at least a week," she lays the book on a side table, spine-side-up, leaving it open to the page she was on, "and Finch said you'd be lucky to be up and about by then," she sets the glasses down too, "but _I_ knew you'd be stronger than that."

Root's made her way to Shaw, at a respectable distance, and reaches for her hand, for some form of contact. Shaw pulls her closer, so that they're almost touching, chest to chest, but not quite. She guides Root's hand to her cheek, letting her run her fingers along her jawline.

Usually Root is all over her when they first reunite. Shaw _never_ makes the first move. She's is slowly adjusting to this reality. This is Root. This is the real Root, who respects her personal space, but pushes her boundaries with her words.

"I missed you," Root states, matter-of-factly. It's the cadence in her voice throughout this exchange that further tips Shaw off to believe this as real. They've never gotten that right. The slight lilting of her voice, the hesitant-but-somehow-still-confident way she was talking to Shaw, and the sultry tone in which she delivered her too-obvious come-ons.

Shaw rolls her eyes and manages a slight smile, in her own way, that Root had only begun to recognize in her in the few weeks leading up to the stock exchange, "I know."

"I was reckless without you, Sameen. I put myself and everyone else in danger just for the _possibility_ of finding you." Root is sincere, and that's the part that kills Shaw. She should know that Root wouldn't have stopped looking for her, even when everyone else had.

Shaw leans in (and up), locking their lips, but Root doesn't respond except to back away.

"What?" Shaw breathes.

"I don't want to hurt you," her voice shakes, in a way Shaw's never seen before. It's scared. Vulnerable.

"I'm not going to be the same person I was before, Root. You and I both know that," she says, quite bluntly. "But that doesn't change the fact that my mind is telling my hands to do _ineffable_ things to you." Shaw had thought that Root would jump at the chance to finally touch her, hold her, _kiss_ her, again (and again. and again).

Shaw is so sure that Root will give in right then and there, and say something like "Ineffable, huh? I'm sure you could find _some_ way to describe it." Shaw would scoff, and Root would take her right there against the wall. That's how things usually go when they reunite.

But she doesn't. Root steps closer to her again, and wraps her arms around her, burying her head in Shaw's hair. Shaw reluctantly reciprocates, wrapping her arms around Root's stomach and leaning into her chest, hearing her heartbeat. It's more comforting than she thought it would be, and oddly... _intimate_. She can hear Root's shaky breathing, and even though she knows she's crying, she doesn't say or do anything; just lets her hold her for a while.

* * *

Months later, when the team has finally developed some kind of routine to the chaos, Shaw takes on her first number. With Root, _of course_. She wouldn't let her go alone.

The number is the usual, one of the most common things they deal with: A young man who accidentally got involved with some bad people (e.g. mobsters, gangs, etc.) and now said bad people are trying to take him out.

Shaw feels great to be working again, even _if_ Root is hovering over her shoulder the entire time.

After getting their number to a safe location, and giving him instructions on what to do next, Root walks Shaw home (Home being, the residence for her main cover identity). Shaw doesn't mention the fact that it's completely out of her way.

At the doorstep to her apartment, Root says, "So, have fun?"

"You know how much I enjoy shooting kneecaps," Shaw teases, "It was good... to be back out there."

"I know you've been wanting to for months... I was just worried about you."

For once, Shaw _doesn't_ roll her eyes. She reaches into her coat pocket, grabbing her keys, and unlocking the (double) locks on her door. Shaw sees the split second hurt expression on Root's face, before it turns to surprise. "Are you coming in?"

Root, stunned, just nods. The only times she'd been invited to one of Shaw's apartments (there had been many), it was for impromptu no-holds-barred sex. They both knew that fact, and they both knew that wasn't going to happen this time.

Shaw leads her into her bedroom, and Root's heart nearly beats out of her chest, nervous, because she knows Shaw isn't ready for _that_.

"Relax," she mumbles, tossing Root a tank top and sweatpants, leaving her standing there, too stunned to do anything, before returning in the same kind of outfit, and climbing under the covers of her bed, leaving half of it decidedly empty.

"Take it or leave it, Root. I know you like this and I'm giving it to you."

Cuddling. Root likes cuddling (Shaw likes it too but won't _ever_ call it that). Root likes the gentle rhythm of Shaw's breathing as she falls asleep, safe in her arms. She likes the way Shaw's body _perfectly_ fits next to hers.

Shaw won't admit it directly (Root knows), but she feels protected like this. Root's hands around her waist send shivers through her entire body. She's a different person than she was at the stock exchange. Her time at the hands of Samaritan had left her with scars, both physical and mental. She was more paranoid, guarded, but also, more sensitive, and susceptible.

When Root climbs into bed next to her, and wraps her arms around her small waist, intertwining their legs, Shaw knows that she's _real_. Root is the only thing that's _ever_ been real.


End file.
